


Mixed Signals

by spectacularparker



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Far From Home, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crushes, F/M, First Day of School, Fluff, Good Peter, Hurt/Comfort, MCU Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectacularparker/pseuds/spectacularparker
Summary: “In the middle of the semester?” He asked, turning back on the balls of his feet and kept walking, but looked over his shoulder when he realized you weren’t following him like you were moments earlier.“That’s what I said, but I don’t know—"you pushed a loose stray of hair out of your eyes, shifting your gaze from the center of Peter’s forehead to the tip of your boots. "He thinks it’s a good idea if we stick together.”“Together? You literally made fun of me making a YouTube channel.”





	Mixed Signals

**Author's Note:**

> This is an extra scene for my story called [Hollow Phoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18980038/chapters/45067354), but it can totally be read by itself.

You yawned, rolled your head to the side, and pulled the book closer to your face while spooned another mouth full of cereal into your mouth. You gazed over the tiny text of John Steinbeck’s  _Grapes of Wrath_  for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. It’s not like you hadn’t read the book before, and maybe CliffsNotes wasn’t your best option at three in the morning after you finished your algebra homework. But you just needed to pass this simple pop quiz. The one you only knew about thanks to Abbie filling you in the night after you came back from Germany.

_“Stark Internship?” she asked over the phone last night and the way she asked told you it was getting harder and harder to cover for you every time you missed a class. “You work for your dad?”_

_“Technically I work for Pepper, but with my dad’s name attached,” you laughed through your nose, but panic had settled when you could not find the book on your bookshelf next to your closet. You scanned over every shelf twice, from the one at the top marked your favorites to the donation pile at the very bottom. “Are you sure it’s Animal Farm or Of Mice and Men or somethin’ like that.”_

_“Animal Farm is George Orwell and no.” You heard the annoyance in her voice from always having to remind you what was happening in class, missing or not, Abbie was the reason you still had your A. “Pop quiz on chapters thirteen through sixteen and a four-page analysis of the first half of the book due by—well the start of the class today.”_

“You put it off again,” Pepper said in a way that made you peer over the top of the book. “Reading while eating breakfast, you’re almost as bad as your dad.”

“If it wasn’t for my dad, then I wouldn’t behind,” you grumbled, shoved another spoon full into your mouth and went back to reading. “Ya know this, right?”

Pepper bit her bottom when she smiled and shook her head. It wasn’t like she didn’t get an ear full when you went to Germany with your dad. Mostly about how he recruited the most hyper and annoying person ever, and the kid—Peter (that was his name) almost never kept his mouth shut. Add on the fact, you were confident he would probably get himself killed before the whole thing was over or at the very least, expose himself to the entire freaking world. Which was the one thing he did not want and made sure you knew about it constantly while the two of you were in his room in Germany.

_“I don’t want people to know who I am,” he said you to while he sat in his hotel room, knees pulled to his chest. He watched you pull something up on your laptop, pretending he wasn’t there._

_“Says the person who has a YouTube channel,” You raised an eyebrow, and closed your laptop before you laced your fingers together like your dad did before he was about to give you some long lecture._

_“But people can just play it off to like good graphics and other stuff—”_

_“YouTube.”_

Pepper nudged your back with her shoulder when you walked past you. “You think he’s cute.”

“If by cute, you mean the most annoying human being to ever be alive,” you rested the spoon against your tongue and turned another page, “then yeah, Peter’s pretty cute.”

This made Pepper laugh, coffee almost spilling out of her mouth when she sat beside you. “You acted the same way about certain Evan Jenkins until about oh, what was it, seventh grade.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, your eyes wide as you turned your head just enough to see Pepper sitting there with a smirk on her face and an eyebrow raised. Cruse you for having a major crush on Evan Jenkins, and cruse Pepper for even remembering that embarrassing time of your life.

Evan Jenkins, who played soccer, did theater, and let you steal some gummy bears on the bus during class field trips. A total heartbreak with his blonde hair and brown eyes, and made you melt every single time he talked to you since second grade. The mention of you two having a crush on each other sent your twelve-year-old heart into overdrive.

“I was a kid,” you stammered out, gripping the spoon enough to leave little indents in your palm. “A kid with a crush. Plus, I always thought Evan was cute anyways.”

“Not a year before when he stole your favorite pencil and gum from out of your desk,” Pepper reminded you with a quick nod, and a look that told you she never forgets anything. “You thought he was the worse thing to happen to mankind, and I’m pretty sure your dad was happy ‘bout it then too.”

“Not the same with Peter,” you quipped back and turned your attention to your book. “Not even close to being the same.”

“You’re just like your dad.”

“What about me?” Tony asked as he entered the kitchen.

You didn’t have to look up to know the bruise was still there underneath his right eye, and dark circles seeping into his skin from a lack of sleep were more noticeable than ever before. And it didn’t help in any way how he was still limping from the battle with Steve Rogers and the rest of the Avengers. Well, whatever was left of the Avengers anyway. The whole thing had been a total storm of emotions, stress, and worry. Something you were kind of glad was over, minus the last part anyways.

“Nothing,” Pepper said with a shake of her head. “Just talking about Germany, that’s all.”

And for once, you were lucky there was some kind of unspoken agreement between the two of you and not mentioning any boys around your dad. The last thing you needed—or wanted was another freakout and the inability of being able to go anywhere without Happy or your dad tagging along, watching anyone who even laid an eye on you. It was cute when you were five, but now all it did was make you want to run and hide for cover until they were gone.

“Germany,” Tony implied as if he knew the things you two had been talking about instead while he snatched the book of your hands. Your head shot up, and you opened your mouth only for him to put his hand up. “Speaking of German, you’re going to Midtown starting today.”

“I’m doing what?”

“Tony.”

“You can’t just move me halfway through the school year,” you said exasperated and tried to reach for your book across the island. “This isn’t fair, dad—I have an English test this morning and—” you swatted at the book as Tony moved towards the other end of the kitchen with a stupid grin on his face. “Why the hell am I going to Midtown?”

“Language missy,” he said while flipping through  _Grapes of Wrath_  before tossing it back onto the island.

“Explain yourself, dad.”

“To keep an eye on the spiderling,” Tony shrugged his shoulder, taking your bowl of cereal into his hands before he took a bit. “Uh, how do you eat this stuff?”

“Spiderling?”

“Spider-boy,” he said with another mouthful of soggy cereal between his lips.

“Spider-boy?”

“Underoos.”

“Who the fuck is underoos?” You asked, getting more annoyed the longer

Tony sat there with a smug look while he finished your breakfast before pouring himself another bowl. “Spider-man.”

“Spider-man?”

“Oh for crying out loud,” he said as he pushed his eyebrows together, not wanting to play the game you were playing at six in the morning. “Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker?”

“I’m sorry, Pep, do you hear an echo in the room?” Tony asked as he put the empty bowl of cereal into the sink, and turned back to you and Pepper, who was now shaking her head at the way he had been acting. “You’re going to Midtown to keep an eye on Peter Parker, you know the kid who came to Germany with us—”

“You’re making me go to Midtown to babysit?” You pushed your chair back enough to hop out of it and started pacing back and forth in the kitchen with your hands going up in the air every three steps you took. “You’re making me go to Midtown to babysit some stupid kid who doesn’t want everyone to know who he is, but has a YouTube channel exposing himself—”

“Former YouTube channel.” Tony narrowed his eyes at you, and you sunk back into your seat for a quick second. “I know you hacked into it and took it down.”

“Besides the point,” you whispered. You stood up in front of Tony, shoulder width apart with your hands on your hips. “I’m supposed to graduate a year early, go to med school that’s why we sent me to Trinity and, and—I can’t graduate if I transfer, cause Midtown doesn’t take half the dual credit classes I’ve taken in the last two years.”

“You wanted to be a normal teenager,” Tony shrugged and looked over at Pepper for any kind of help. “This being normal.”

“This is torture.”

“Two years isn’t all that bad, sweetie,” Pepper said, trying to make the situation seem less daunting than it was. “I mean, you’ll make new friends, be around Peter and what else could go wrong?”

“You can’t do this to me, this isn’t fair,” you bellowed as tears started to rim your eyes. “Not fair.” You stormed your way out of the kitchen, up to the stairs, across the floor in the hallway and slamming your bedroom door shut.

“Happy will be here in thirty minutes to take you,” Tony yelled up to you. “So, get your butt in gear, you don’t want to be late for your first day there.”

You opened your bedroom door enough to stick your head out. “You can’t make me go,” you shouted back and slammed your door close again.

“Is this what if feels like to have an actual teenager mad at me?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes of crying, fifty bucks, and a promise to have your favorite pizza when you got home later—you sat in the back of the car with your arms folded over your chest and head resting against the window. Your phone kept going off from Abbie, sending your text messages after you screamed cried into her voicemail at six-thirty in the morning. Mostly about transferring school and how you stayed up all night reading that stupid book that didn’t even matter anymore.

 **Abbie:**   _Midtown? Isn’t that an arts school?_

 **You:**   _I don’t even know. What’s even in Midtown that’s good?_

 **Abbie:**   _Pizza?_

 **You:**   _Ya okay…._

The only upside to going to Midtown was you didn’t have to wear your uniform anymore. The lovely feel of pants against your legs and a cream color sweater on your body was everything you needed. And a lot more than you could say for the itchy pantyhose and a terrible pleated skirt that looked like it came straight out of the 1960s. Not to the mention the polos you had to wear every single day and the sweatshirts that itched almost as much as the pantyhose.

You opened your eyes to see Peter Parker walking—skipping—doing whatever Peter did instead of walking normally towards the school.

“Happy,” you barked, leaning forward in the seat and looking at his side profile. Your hands gripped both sides of the seats as you practically pushed yourself into the passenger seat.“ Drop me off here.”

“But you dad said too–”

“Please, I’m begging you,” you poked out your bottom lip and batted your eyelashes. The one thing you had managed to get down since Happy started working with your dad, and the only thing that made Happy melt into your hands. “Please, I don’t need a Stark car pulling up on my first day, and you know how people talk—.”

“Fine.”

The car lurched to a stop, and Happy stared at you from the corner of his eye. You grabbed your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder while you scooted across the seat towards the sidewalk. “Thank Happy, you’re literally the best.”

“If you need anything—”

“Won’t be necessary,” you said before closing the door, not hearing the rest of Happy’s speech that you listened to a hundred times about being safe and call or text if anything weird happens. Stay at least five feet from any boys that try to do anything funny with you, and keep your eyes and ears open. If anyone even thinks about laying a finger on you, you run as far away as possible and call us. Same speech, different day.

You leaned up onto your toes, looking around the guy who was currently blocking your view with how big his head was. Peter was only a couple of feet in front of you, bopping his head up and down while he started to slow down some. It didn’t help you could spot Peter from a mile away even without his suit on. Just the way he carried himself made your heart race in a way that almost made you want to fling yourself into the incoming traffic. It would have been less painful than seeing Peter Parker today.

**_Peter’s has some really curly hair._ **

**_That poor mask has to be the worse thing to ever happen to him._ **

**_He is pretty cute when he doesn’t open his mouth. Well, the back of his head anyways._ **

Dang Pepper for even putting the idea into your mind about Peter.

You pulled the straps of your backpack forward until the slap of your laptop met your back. “Hey, Parker, wait up,” you yelled as a guy turned around and looked at with a confused look. You shot the stare back while you ran past him, “Not you, I don’t even know you—Hey Peter Parker wait up.”

Peter froze, his chest hardly moving as he forced himself to breathe through his nose and not his mouth. He pulled out one of his headphones, letting it dangle around his neck and swallowed the lump in the back of his throat.  He glanced over his shoulder slowly to see you running towards. Your hair a mess, eyes bloodshot and puffy and a sweater hugged your body in the right places that made his throat close up back up and sweat start to form on his brow bone.

“Hey—hey,” he stammered out. Peter spun on his heels to greet you, almost tripping over his feet. “Trinity is uptown, right?”

“Yeah–”

“Then,” Peter ran a hand back and forth through his hair, making it more of a mess. “What—what are you doing here?

"About that—” You stopped short, noticing the way a loose curl dangled in front of Peter’s eyes and how he didn’t seem to notice or care. The little lines creasing across his forehead, making him look much older than he was, and you swore in the last forty-eight hours, Peter had grown a solid foot taller. You shook your head, regathering your thoughts before you spoke again. “My dad thought it would be easier with the internship if I went to Midtown too.”

“In the middle of the semester?” He asked, turning back on the balls of his feet and kept walking, but looked over his shoulder when he realized you weren’t following him like you were moments earlier.

“That’s what I said, but I don’t know—"you pushed a loose stray of hair out of your eyes, shifting your gaze from the center of Peter’s forehead to the tip of your boots. "He thinks it’s a good idea if we stick together.”

“Together? You literally made fun of me making a YouTube channel.”

The words slapped you across the face, a handprint leaving a sting as Peter walked into the school. Leaving you behind to figure out where exactly you were supposed to be going in a place that currently made you feel like a zoo animal on display. Poking and prodding and snickering while people pushed past you and into the main lobby. And to make it even better with tears pricking your sores eyes for the second time that morning, you weren’t even sure you had made fun of him for his YouTube channel.

Maybe you scolded him for being reckless, but what guy at fifteen isn’t reckless. Just he needed to be more careful than everyone else out, not draw more unwanted attention to himself then he was already getting. If that was what he really wanted—to protect his identity.

You took a step back away from the front door that was about to slam in your face. You hated the way your stomach churned and twisted within itself. You waited a few minutes before following behind Peter enough for him not to notice.

“I didn’t mean too,” you started, twisting the vinyl of your backpack against your fingers, leaving little indents in them. “Peter, I swear.”

“Whatever, Y/N,” Peter said in a way that allowed your heart to break into a million pieces. You weren’t expecting him to drop everything and show you around, but you weren’t ready for this either. Your dad had told you he given Peter a heads up on you coming and he wasn’t supposed to leave you alone, but that wasn’t the case now. “Tell your dad I’ll be there this afternoon for the internship.”

You swore you heard someone say 'Oh look Penis Parker has a girlfriend now’ followed by a bunch of high fives and some people pointing and staring at the two of you while they passed by you and Peter.

“Yeah–,” you muttered, fishing for your phone in your back pocket for the schedule Pepper had forwarded to you from the office. Avoiding any and all eye contact with Peter, who you knew wanted you to leave him alone now. “I got AP English anyways, I’ll see you later.”  

“Right, yeah—later….”

You didn’t wait to hear what Peter had to say next as you pretend to walk towards the English hallway. Only it was the science hallway, and you found yourself walking around in circles in a school where everyone knew one, but no one really knew you at all. It had been the same way your whole life, and it wasn’t going to change.

It’s what made the stares coming at you while you walked down towards the library that much harder. Some you could tell were wanting to ask you if Tony was really your dad and others were snickering and whispering while you passed them. Others were knocking elbows with each and talking about how easy you were to get into bed, cause of your last name.

You heard every single whisper and snickered people were giving whoever the fuck Flash was. Praising him and telling him it was probably causing the two of you fucked while you were gone on the Stark internship last week that you Peter was mad at you. It only made your feet press harder into the tile of the hallway while you walked past them.

You tried to block it out like Pepper had taught you back after your dad’s accident when you were eight. But this different. This wasn’t grown adult talking about Tony and Pepper like they weren’t around. These were your peers, and they knew you were right there, and they did not care at all.

But none of it mattered the long you walked until you ran into the guy everyone had called 'Flash.’

“Yo did you really fuck Parker?” Flash asked you, his hand in front of the library door and lifted his head slightly. “There has to be a reason you shows up now after Parker comes back.”

“You don’t even know who I am,” you said through clenched teeth, hands balling up into a fist.

“I know a Stark when I see one,” he held up his phone to an old newspaper clipping of you and your dad one day. “Like I said, I know one when I see one.

"You’re just picking on people cause you have nothing better to do with your life than that,” you spat, allowing the anger of the whole morning to build up inside of you, making your body feel as if it was on fire.

“I guess Penis Parker isn’t that good—”

_**Penis Parker?** _

_**The fuck?** _

Your shoulder met the guy’s chin as you pushed back and into the library. You weren’t stupid as to why everyone was talking about you. The mention of the Stark internship and people automatically knew who you were without a second glance, but that photo. That photo made your skin crawl and your sweater far too itchy with each step you took. You wanted to run away and hide, call you dad and chew him out for sending you here when you were perfectly content at your old school. Even if it meant you could fail your English reading test, and probably get scolded at for not being there last week.

This new school was not worth missing out on everything you once knew. It wasn’t worth already having people talk to you and making rumors about you the second you walked into the doors. Not worth not knowing where anything was and no one helping. It was a stupid idea, and you should have locked yourself in your room until your dad left.

But you were a Stark. You were supposed to make enemies, have people hate you at the sheer sight of you, and even have people stop and praise your dad. But it was never supposed to be Peter Parker. At least, it was never part of your plan, and maybe you were following your dad’s advice a little too hard.

“He’s a kid, he’s reckless, and I’m certain he has a good head on his shoulders, but this YouTube thing isn’t good.”

That’s what led you to make him think you were making fun of his channel. Maybe you did get annoyed with him, but But you had watched enough of his videos to know his personality, and what you did not see in Peter you did. His good heart. His need to fix everything and help people out. Things your dad understood, but he didn’t see it the way Peter did. He only saw recklessness and carelessness, and some of his former self in Peter.

“Stupid Pepper, stupid emotions, stupid, stupid, stupid,” you muttered into your hands as you covered your face. “This is all so stupid.”  

You were far too into your thoughts to hear the door of the library open and footsteps coming up the stairs. Or the sound a chair being pulled out beside you until you felt a knee bump into yours and warm hands reached for your hands and pulled them away from your face.

“You breathe too fast, your heart is racing, and your palms are far too sweaty when you’re nervous,” Peter said. He was a blurry mess in your vision, a small, somewhat smile on his face, and he laced his fingers with yours without thinking twice.

“Excuse me what?” You asked, half in shock and half awe of this kid. How did this kid already know every single one of your ticks and why did he have to point them out to you in the middle of a crowded hallway with people burning a hole into the side of your face. “Were you stalking me?”

“What? No, no–I swear I wasn’t.” Peter shook his hand, squeezing your hands lightly enough until you realized he was doing it on rhythm with your breathing to help it slow down. “You just have a pretty obvious heartbeat, and it’s really loud when you’re nervous or scared. Not to mention you breathe really loud too that I couldn’t hear a pin drop over it while I was walking down the hall.”

“Not true,” you stuttered out. You could not believe this kid, forty-eight hours together, and he knew more about you than you knew about yourself. Annoying kid with too much energy, but a cutie with too much energy that you wore out just looking at him. He was sitting here, helping you calm down before everything spiraled out of control. “What are you doing here, anyways?”  

“I don’t know, I have a free first period— "Peter started, dropping your hand and looking at the table. He knew he had cross line earlier when he snapped at you. "And I’m sorry for earlier, I just—I had a rough night patrolling and—”

“I’m sorry for Germany,” you spat out, lacing your hands together on the table and placing your chin on them. “I just—I hate things like that, and somehow I got dragged along and then this new school….” You paused, sniffling to hold the tears back that were pricking the corner of your eyes, and you refused to cry for a third time that day. “I wasn’t ready for any of it, and I don’t like the whole superhero aspect anyways, but here I am.”  

Peter laughed, and you raised your head to smack him across the shoulder. “Hey…”

“Not funny, Parker,” you said, laughing a little bit and running your hand underneath your nose. “I’m serious, I don’t like it when people I care about get hurt.” Peter tiled his head towards you, his lips drawn into a thin line and pushed his eyebrows together, but he nodded his head for you to keep going. “I worry about those people, and I can’t do much if anything happens, ya know. And– there’s not a lot of people on my list right now. Mostly just my dad and Rhodey…and Pepper and Happy.”

“That’s four people that you need to worry about it,” Peter corrected and rocked back in his chair a little. “I have May on my list of people. So, I get it, kinda.”

“Thanks,” you muttered and stuck out your hand. “I think we started on the wrong foot.” Peter narrowed his eyes, and you couldn’t help, but roll yours and remember why he got on your last nerve. “Take my hand and shake it, Parker.”

“Oh–oh, you’re right,” Peter gripped your hand, gently with his callous hands while he shook it. “I’m Peter Parker.”

“I’m Y/N Stark,” you said with a smile.

Maybe you had managed to take Peter Parker off the list of the people who hated you before they really got to know you. But in place, you had accidentally shifted Peter Parker to the list of people you worried about regularly now knowing what he did for a living. And you were okay with it.

Oh, how Peter Parker was going to be the death of you.


End file.
